


light a fire and we'll write a sonnet

by littlervoice



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Camping, Fluff, Humor, M/M, OT5, Smut, contains lots of terrible camping innuendos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlervoice/pseuds/littlervoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys go on a camping trip, and Niall and Harry end up having to share a tent. Naturally, with Louis around, they don't have the easiest time of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	light a fire and we'll write a sonnet

**Author's Note:**

> after seeing the tags on [this](http://niallold.tumblr.com/post/115439432913/zaynsash-niall-and-harry-failing-to-put-their#notes) post i couldn't resist

“Dunno about you guys but I reckon this camping trip is gonna be in-tents,” Harry says, earning himself a snigger from Niall over in the driver’s seat. “Get it? In-tents, like intense?” He explains, because none of the other boys have laughed and he knows Liam sometimes has trouble understanding his jokes.

“Yes, Harry, we all got it, thanks,” Louis rolls his eyes from where he’s sandwiched between Liam and Zayn in the back seat.

“Well why didn’t you laugh?”

“Because none of us found it funny.”

“Niall found it funny,” Harry argues.

“No offence, mate, but Niall finds  _everything_  funny,” Zayn says.

“Especially if you’re the one who said it,” Louis mutters, only loud enough so that Liam and Zayn can hear. “You could recite the phonebook and he’d be in fucking stitches.”

Liam can’t help the giggle that escapes his mouth which, in turn, sets Zayn off laughing too. Harry turns in his seat and glares at them all accusingly.

“Are you making fun of me?” He pouts.

“Would we ever do such a thing?” Louis says, angelic grin on his face.

“Well, actually,” Harry begins, ready to count off the numerous times the others had taken the piss out of him, but Niall cuts him short.

“Alright, children, quit arguing. We’re here.”

\-----

“Erm, guys, is there a reason there are only four tents in the boot?”

Harry had searched the whole car, counted and then re-counted to make sure he wasn’t going mad but there are definitely only four tents in the car, and there are definitely five of them on this trip.

“Did one of you forget to put the last one in?” Harry questions.

“Don’t look at me,” Niall frowns, “it was Louis’ job to pack the tents, not mine.”

“Er, excuse me, Niall, don’t be so quick to throw the blame,” Louis protests. “I’ll have you know that I passed that responsibility over to Zayn when Liam decided he needed my help to sort out food.”

“Me, bro?” Zayn looks deeply offended. As if he’d ever manage to forget something as important as that. “Think you’re talking out your arse.”

“Alright, lads,” Liam steps in to stop an argument from breaking out, “it’s no big deal. Two of us will just have to share, that’s all.”

“But these tents are only meant to sleep one person,” Zayn helpfully points out.

“So? It’s not like we all haven’t shared beds before,” Liam shrugs. “So, who’s gonna share?”

“Not me!” Louis rushes out, at the exact same time as Zayn says, “No thanks.”

Harry doesn’t see what the big deal is. Like Liam said, they’d all shared beds before, so how different would it be to share a tent? He moves over to stand beside Niall, slings an arm over his shoulder.

“We’ll share, won’t we, bro?”

He and Niall had particularly done a lot of bed-sharing throughout their tours. Strictly platonic, of course, even if Harry had drunkenly let slip to Louis one evening that he’d wished it wasn’t.

“Sure,” Niall says, holding his hand out for a fist-bump.

\-----

“Wait, so if I stick my pole in that hole–”

“Oi oi! Harry’s sticking his pole in Niall’s hole!”

“Shut up, no I’m not!” Harry responds, hoping Niall hasn’t seen just how red his face has turned.

“Funny, Tommo,” Niall calls over to Louis. “Can you give the dumb jokes a rest? We’re just trying to figure out how to get it up.”

“What about trying  _your_  pole in  _Harry’s_  hole? Maybe that’ll be better,” Louis suggests, clearly having the time of his life with all the innuendos this camping trip has provided him with so far.

Harry looks up and gives Louis a death stare which he hopes says “You’re gonna pay for this someday” but apparently Harry needs to work on looking more threatening because Louis looks entirely unworried, just sticks his tongue out at Harry in a childish manner.

“Gimme that pole.”

“Which pole?”

“The one in your hand, Harry,” Niall says, exasperated. Harry reckons Niall thinks he’s being a little shit on purpose, but he’s really not – not this time. Tents are just confusing and he’s sure he has the right pole in his hand.

“No, this goes here,” he tells Niall.

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s s’posed to go over here,” Niall says defiantly. He holds his hand out waiting for Harry to cave in and hand the pole over. But Harry won’t budge. He’s definitely, like, almost ninety-nine percent sure that  _this_  pole goes in his side of the tent.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, why doesn’t this stupid thing come with instructions?” Niall groans, throwing his hands in the air and giving up completely.

“Having a bit of trouble?” Liam asks wandering over to where Harry and Niall are battling with the tent, Zayn and Louis in tow. Liam had put his tent up ages ago – as had Zayn and Louis – and now the three of them are stood watching Harry and Niall struggle with matching smirks on their faces.

“Yes, because apparently one of you bastards has nicked some of our tent poles,” Harry glares between Louis and Liam. He knows it wouldn’t be Zayn; he’s neither sneaky nor harsh enough to play a trick like that.

“Which one of you was it?” He questions, feeling a bit like a schoolteacher scolding his class. Louis and Liam definitely look like two guilty pupils, giggling and nudging each other, and refusing to look Harry in the eye.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Louis says, but the laugh he’s trying and failing to suppress tells Harry that clearly he does.

“Well can one of you at least help us put this up?” Niall asks, gesturing to the limp tent in front of them. “We’re gonna be here all night otherwise.”

“I’d love to but we have to go collect some firewood,” Liam says and Harry will give him his credit, he does actually look slightly apologetic. “But if us three all managed it, you’ll be fine.”

“Zayn, come on,” Harry pleads, decides to try and appeal to Zayn’s helpful, generous side.

“Sorry, bro,” Zayn shrugs and then grins, “I got Liam to do mine.”

“What?! That’s not fair!” Harry protests, but the three lads are already retreating away towards the woods.

\-----

Harry and Niall are still at it when the other three come back with armfuls of firewood. Well, Harry’s still trying. Niall gave up long ago, seemingly content to just sleep on the grass.

“Jesus Christ, it’s a tent not the fucking Eiffel Tower,” Louis says as he passes.

Fortunately Zayn seems to take pity on Harry, and after offloading his firewood he comes over to help.

After a bit of creative engineering, they manage to get the tent looking reasonably like it should. A bit of a miracle if you ask Harry, considering half the poles are fucking ‘missing’. Sure, maybe one side of the tent is drooped down a bit, meaning one of them will have to sleep with a face full of tent, but Niall doesn’t seem too bothered if the grateful “Cheers, Haz,” he’d thrown over to Harry was anything to go by.

In front of the row of tents, Liam and Louis had managed to build an impressive-looking fire, and now Liam is knelt down rubbing a couple of stones together to try create a spark and light the whole thing.

Zayn’s sick of waiting, though, and knows it’s not going to work, so he crouches round the opposite side of the fire where Liam can’t see him and slides his lighter out of his pocket. Thanks to the copious amounts of lighter fluid Louis had used, the entire thing catches fire in an instant.

Liam reels back and – after checking he still has both his eyebrows – says, “Smashed it! Hey, check me out, lads! I feel like Bear Grylls.”

“Whatever you do, _please_ don’t start drinking your own piss,” Louis says pointedly. “We have some perfectly good beer with us.”

“Oh yeah,” Zayn remembers, “Harry, grab the drinks out the car, will you?”

Harry retrieves the cooler full of beer from the car and brings it back over to the others who are all sat around the fire. After passing each boy a beer, Harry takes one for himself and sits next to Niall in the remaining free chair.

The boys spend the next few hours talking and messing around, enjoying being away from all responsibilities back home. Louis almost dies of laughter and Liam almost has a heart attack when Harry somehow manages to nearly set his hair on fire. He really needs to work on not being so clumsy.

Liam goes to bed first. Wishes the rest of the lads goodnight before disappearing into his tent saying he’d promised Sophia he’d call before bed.

“Better not be hearing any suspicious noises from in there!” Niall yells after him.

Zayn disappears next, mumbling something about the heat of the fire making him sleepy, and is probably already sound asleep by the time Niall, Harry and Louis can even register that he’s gone.

“Hey, Louis, remember that time we–” Harry turns around to where Louis’ sat, question on his lips, but Louis’ not there. “Oh. When’d he go?”

“Dunno, a while ago probably,” Niall shrugs, digging around his trouser pocket for something. “Shit, my phones dead. Do you know what time it is?”

Harry shrugs, his phone died a long time ago, too.

“Dunno, mate,” he tilts his head back to look up at the sky above them, “but judging by the position of the moon–”

“Definitely bedtime.”

\-----

“Quit wriggling.”

“I can’t, the tent’s right in my face. Every time I breathe it tickles.”

“Honestly, Harry, it’s like sharing a tent with a five-year-old,” Niall sighs.

“Sorry,” Harry whispers.

“S’fine,” Niall assures him and then wriggles to the left a little, moving further away from Harry. He must be pressed right up against the wall of the tent now.

Harry frowns. He knows he’s being a bit annoying but surely Niall doesn’t need to be so rude and abrupt about it?

“C’mere then,” Niall says, reaching out to pull at Harry’s sleeping bag. “Can’t have this tent attacking you half the night."

_Oh_. That’s what Niall meant.

Harry ends up on his side, his head resting kind of awkwardly on Niall’s shoulder and his legs folded in a way he didn’t even know was possible in an attempt to avoid kicking Niall. Apparently he does that a lot in his sleep.

This is better. Now that the tent is no longer in his face Harry actually believes he might get a bit of sleep tonight. Especially with the comforting sound of Niall’s breathing right there next to him.

But then Harry gets pins and needles in his leg. He tries to ignore it for as long as possible but eventually it starts getting painful so he has no choice but to stretch out his legs. And trust Harry to kick the most important tent pole in doing so, because now the whole tent has collapsed on top of him and Niall.

“What the fuck?!” Niall whispers, sitting up and lifting the tent fabric with his hands so he can see Harry. “I swear this thing hates us.”

Harry laughs. “Wanna try put it back up again?”

“Ha, not a chance in hell,” Niall replies, “I’m just gonna go sleep on the grass.” He starts to free himself from his sleeping bag and thankfully Harry’s alert enough to dodge an elbow to the face.

“Isn’t it a bit cold out there?”

“You’ll have to come keep me warm then, won’t ya?” Niall teases, and maybe he’s joking but Harry’s definitely not going to turn down that offer.

They arrange themselves on the grass right next to the tent, sleeping bags pressed tight together to preserve body heat. Purely for survival reasons only. Not because Harry wants to snuggle with Niall. Not at all.

It’s a clear sky above them, Harry notices, and Niall must’ve noticed too because he tilts his head towards Harry and asks, “Do you know anything about the stars?”

“No,” Harry murmurs, “but I can make something up if you find that romantic?”

Niall breathes out a laugh. “Go on then.”

“Okay, well that big star there,” Harry points up to the sky, “is called the moon. It’s made of cheese and it’s inhabited by these little mouse-things called  _Clangers._ ”

“The moon isn’t a star, you idiot,” Niall laughs, reaching up and pulling Harry’s hand back down to his side.

“That’s the only problem you have with what I just told you?”

“Yep.” Niall flashes Harry a grin, squeezes his hand. “Now go to sleep.”

\-----

When Harry wakes up in the morning he has a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. He blinks his eyes open, confused until lifts his head and realises that it’s Niall sleeping on his chest, and looking oh-so-adorable and comfy whilst doing it.

Harry lays his head back down. Now that he’s awake he knows he won’t be able to fully get back to sleep, but he doesn’t have the heart to move Niall so that he can get up. So he stays where he is, closes his eyes and drifts in and out of consciousness.

Eventually, though, Harry senses a presence towering above him. He flutters his eyes open, adjusting to the light again, and right there in his line of sight is Louis holding a set of tent poles in his hand with a satisfied smirk on his face. Upon lifting his head up slightly, Harry can see that Liam and Zayn are watching him, too, although stood at a much safer distance in case Harry decides to attack.

“So you’ll never guess what I found,” Louis says innocently, and for a second Harry really wants to ram those tent poles up Louis’ ass or something.

But luckily, Louis’ ass is saved when Niall mumbles something which sounds vaguely like “shut the fuck up” and then tucks his head into the crook of Harry’s neck, so close that Harry can feel little puffs of breath on his skin as Niall exhales.

“We’re off for a walk,” Liam informs him, and Harry wonders how he managed to get Zayn and Louis to agree to that at this time of the morning. “I’d offer for you to come but you seem otherwise occupied as Niall’s human mattress.”

“But I’m sure you and Niall will enjoy some quality alone time with your tent,” Louis says suggestively. “If you can get it up again, that is.”

Harry wishes he had something to throw at Louis. Instead he settles for flipping him off and saying, “I hope you get eaten by a bear in the woods.”

“Thank Christ for that,” Niall mutters when the Zayn, Louis and Liam finally disappear.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

Niall untucks his head from where it’s nestled in Harry’s neck. “Course I am. You lot are loud as fuck.”

“Sorry.”

“Whatever. At least now we have some alone time.”

“And how do we plan on spending that alone time?” Harry asks, peering into Niall’s eyes and double-checking they’re on the same wavelength.

“Well, I can think of a few things,” Niall murmurs. And then his lips are on Harry’s.

Harry doesn’t know how long he and Niall spend there, lazily kissing on the ground. It could be minutes, it could be hours. The second Niall started kissing him he lost all coherent thought.

They’re still in their sleeping bags, Harry realises, and he’s beginning to overheat, so he’s about to suggest maybe moving somewhere else but Niall beats him to the punch.

“Dunno ‘bout you but I think we should take this somewhere a bit more private,” Niall says with a smirk and a nod towards Louis’ tent.

“Good idea,” Harry grins.

He and Niall both slip out of their sleeping bags and stand up. Niall takes his hand and starts pulling him over to the tent but Harry stops him.

“One second,” he says and then digs around for his bag under the mess that was once their tent. “Ta da!” He sings when he produces what he was looking for.

“I can’t believe you brought lube and condoms,” Niall says, shaking his head in fond exasperation.

“Well, I thought, y’know, just in case–”

“Just in case what? You find some stranger in the woods who fancies a quick shag?”

“I found you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I’m not stranger,” Niall points out, “and I certainly hope I’m more than a quick shag.”

“Of course,” Harry tells him instantly, shy smile creeping across his face. All these years hopelessly pining after Niall and all it took was a camping trip and some missing tent poles.

They crawl into Louis’ tent and situate themselves so that Niall is resting between Harry’s legs. Sure, it’s a bit of a squeeze, but that’s all part of the fun. And when Niall leans down to start kissing him again, Harry can think of no place he’d rather be right now than here in this tent.

Niall sits up, head skimming the roof of the tent, and strips off his shirt. He rolls his hips into Harry’s and Harry can feel that he’s already hard.

“Have to be quick,” Niall says as he fumbles with the buttons on Harry’s shirt, exposing his bare chest completely. “What do you want?”

“Want you in me, Niall.”

“Fuck,” Niall groans, “okay, yeah.”

He tugs at the waistband of Harry’s trousers. “Off,” he orders, and then moves to one side to take care of his own trousers, sliding his underwear off at the same time.

Niall tangles his legs with Harry’s again, presses their dicks together and Harry closes his eyes at the sensation, the skin-on-skin contact he’s been wanting for so long.

Harry didn’t expect Niall to be such a tease, thoroughly exploring Harry’s body despite what he previously said about having to be quick, peppering gentle kisses here and there, one on the top of his shoulder, the inside of his thigh.

“Come on,” Harry urges, well aware that the rest of the guys could return at any moment.

With a finger under his chin, Harry guides Niall back to his mouth, kisses him again and then slips the bottle of lube into his hand. Niall takes the bottle, shy smile on his face which Harry isn’t used to seeing.

Niall slicks his fingers, rubbing a finger over Harry’s entrance a few times before pushing in. He gently works Harry up, adding another finger, and then another, until Harry can’t take it anymore, grabs Niall’s wrist and tells him with pleading eyes, “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” Niall whispers, already reaching for the condoms Harry had brought.

He slowly pushes into Harry – measured, careful – until he bottoms out. Harry takes a few deep breaths, adjusting to the feeling before telling Niall to move, and when Niall starts thrusting into him, Harry can’t believe they’ve wasted all those years _not_ doing this.

Harry strokes his cock lazily, enjoying the blush that’s spreading from Niall’s cheeks down to his chest as he fucks into Harry.

“So hot,” he tells Niall, “so fucking good.”

Niall’s only response is to switch up the angle, thrust harder, and grin smugly at the noises Harry finds himself making.

It’s Niall who comes first, hips stuttering as he lets out a groan which Harry commits to memory. He’ll definitely be replaying _that_ over and over in his mind later on.

Niall pulls out, kneels between Harry’s spread legs and replaces the hold Harry had on his dick, matching his strokes rhythm for rhythm.

“You close?”

Harry closes his eyes and nods. So close.

“Come for me, Harry,” Niall murmurs, voice deep and gravelly.

That’s all it takes to send Harry over the edge, cum spilling onto Niall’s hand and across his own stomach.

“Fuck,” Harry says once he has his breathing under control and his brain working again.

Niall shifts so that he’s lying down in the space next to Harry. “Fuck,” he repeats.

Niall removes the condom, tying it off and then throwing it to the far end of the tent, wincing when it misses landing in one of Louis’ shoes by millimetres.

Harry reaches over and grabs what he presumes is Louis’ sleep shirt, using it to wipe the cum off his stomach and then passing it to Niall to wipe his hands.

“Louis’ gonna kill us.”

“Worth it,” Harry grins and then slumps his head back down, closing his eyes and listening to the sound of Niall breathing next to him.

They’re brought out of their post-orgasm haze when they hear the voices of Liam, Zayn and Louis in the distance. They quickly scramble to put their clothes back on, but it’s a bit of a struggle in the tiny tent and Harry wishes he’d changed into pyjamas last night instead of sleeping in his jeans.

Harry unzips the tent and pokes his head out to see if he and Niall will be able to sneak out of Louis’ tent without being noticed. That plan goes out the window straight away when he’s greeted by all three boys staring back at him, all with knowing grins on their faces.

“Caught red-handed,” Liam teases when Harry crawls out of the tent with Niall right behind him.

“Caught red-faced, more like,” says Zayn, referring to the deep blush present on both Harry and Niall’s cheeks.

Niall looks over at Harry, breaks out into a huge grin when Harry meets him in the eye. Eventually Harry has to look away, cheeks beginning to ache from smiling so much.

“Wait, is that my tent?!” Louis screeches, finally having put the pieces together.

“Oh yeah, it is,” Niall says. “Thanks for letting us borrow it, by the way.”

“I didn’t,” Louis scowls.

“Oh, did you not?” Niall smiles sweetly. “Well anyway, Harry and I thought we’d test its sturdiness. Y’know…after our tent collapsed last night, wouldn’t want that happening to you, would we?”

“Turns out it’s very sturdy, indeed,” Harry adds. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh fuck off,” Louis says and flips both boys off.

“We’ll consider that as your apology, so very generous of you,” Niall winks.

“I better bloody not find any mysterious stains in there when I go to bed tonight,” Louis threatens.

Harry turns to look at Niall, gives him a quick smirk, then turns back to Louis.

“No promises, mate.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Clangers is a children's cartoon that used to be shown on tv in the uk if any of you were wondering (which you weren't)


End file.
